


i'll be your man if you got love to get done

by volchitsae



Series: how big the hourglass, how deep the sand [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Deepthroating, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volchitsae/pseuds/volchitsae
Summary: “Enough with domestic shit,” Kuroo says. “Gimme the juicy details, boy: vampire dick, yes slash no?”Atsumu snorts. Mind numbingly busy, but achingly, disgustinglyhornyis also on the list.“We haven’t had the time.”“Not even for a quickie?”Atsumu shrugs. “Feels kinda weird to after he’s been all dotin’ and shit.”“Bro, you showed up on his doorstep in a maid outfit to fuck, how are you embarrassed by this.”“And he didn’t want to fuck immediately! We had a sitdown about courting first!”“Oh mygod.”Atsumu smacks his hands over his face. “I know. Maybe I’ll just jump his bones the next time I see him.”“The undetermined-age bones,” Bokuto says, and they burst out laughing. Atsumu thinks about the expression on Sakusa’s face when he mentioned jokingly whether he should’ve slept with Oikawa and starts to plan in his mind.He wonders if along with doting, Sakusa is the jealous type, too.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: how big the hourglass, how deep the sand [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725427
Comments: 13
Kudos: 503





	i'll be your man if you got love to get done

“So how’ve you been doing, lover boy? You n’ Sakusa the hot vampire?” Kuroo asks around the lid of his pen in his mouth. He, Bokuto, and Atsumu are seated around the kitchen table in the shared apartment belonging to Atsumu and Osamu, textbooks and laptops spread haphazardly over the wood. Osamu stands at the stove stirring a soup he’s been fiddling with for the better part of the day.

Atsumu’s stomach growls. “Not bad. We see each other when we can outside of work and school.” Bokuto waggles his eyebrows and they all break out into snickers.

“Not always _like that_ ,” Atsumu says. “When I went to go deliver his order –“ he ignores the eyebrow wiggling from both of them this time; “he mentioned that he wanted to _court_ me, like some 18th century European nobleman.” Bokuto and Kuroo make snobbish _hon hon_ noises.

“I like him, and not just ‘cause of his dick,” he continues, to which he sees Osamu silently puts in earphones and presses play on the music on his phone. “We’re also pretty busy. So I said yes. Prob’ly better for us to spend time together and get to know each other in a way that isn’t just sex, anyway, since we’re both interested in each other.”

The other two settle down and make sounds of agreement.

“We’re happy for ya, you know that. How old do you think he is?” Kuroo quirks his eyebrows at him. Atsumu shrugs.

“Does talkin’ about time n’ age even make sense for immortals?”

“I just wanna know if he’s like, grandpa-doesn’t-know-how-to-use-a-phone or like, I-broke-my-fast-with-Jesus old, y’know.”

Atsumu cracks up. “I’ll figure it out eventually. Right now, I’m just tryin’ to know about regular relationship things, like what’s his job, his hobbies, if he’d want a cat or a dog.”

“A regular relationship thing does include his _age_ , Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto pipes up. Kuroo snorts and points at Bokuto with his pen like _he’s got a point._

“I _just_ said it doesn’t really apply for an immortal being like Omi-kun!”

“Minestrone,” says Osamu, and they clear the table for dinner. While eating, he recounts his conversation he’d had with Sakusa the other day when they hung out.

It was similar to this – at the kitchen table in Sakusa’s apartment, with Sakusa at his desktop computer clicking through various photographs he’d taken at his last shoot to edit for the magazine they were shot for. Sakusa invites him over for tea to “talk” and it made Atsumu all kinds of anxious until he got there after class to see that it was exactly what Sakusa had meant.

“Would you be interested? For me to court you?” he’d said, suddenly, after watching Atsumu tug his textbooks and notebooks out of his backpack.

“Yeah, Omi-kun, I’d like that,” Atsumu had replied, grinning in relief, and then frowning. “I’m afraid it’ll hafta be a lot of this, though,” and he gestures at the textbooks. “Profs aren’t givin’ me any space to breathe on top of the blood delivery, especially when you went an’ advertised us to all your magic friends. Kuroo and Bokuto say hi and thank you, by the way. You managed to get us raises.”

Sakusa ducks his head to hide a pleased smile and Atsumu reminds himself that they’re having a serious conversation when he focuses too long on the dimple that appears.

“That’s fine. As I said before, I’d like to get to know you; I’m looking forward to spending time together like this. I’m getting busier too, with more editorials to shoot.” Atsumu leans to glance at the monitor, where a model is posed.

“What’re ya shootin’ for?” Sakusa rolls his chair out of the way so Atsumu can see.

“I’m a photographer for both fashion magazines and celebrity magazines,” Sakusa explains.

“Both human and supernatural?” Sakusa nods.

“My nocturnal tendencies mean I’m scheduled more for supernatural targeted magazines and online articles, but yes. I shoot editorial and commercial.” He smiles a little when Atsumu snorts at the delicate phrasing of vampire nocturnal behaviour.

“So you _do_ know how to use a camera, Omi-kun.” Sakusa snorts. “You got any real famous people?” Sakusa nods again and rolls his chair to the side so Atsumu can see the screen clearly. He whistles at the statistics of physical copies sold.

“Here’s one of the recently published ones. Oikawa Tooru, incubus, actor, and model extraordinaire.” Atsumu recognizes him and can almost feel the power of attraction bleeding from each photo. Oikawa is modeling a line for simple, everyday clothes.

“This shoot is meant to go alongside an interview with him in Immortals Monthly,” Sakusa continues, unaware that Atsumu has encountered Oikawa in person. “He was fun to work with, although somewhat picky on which shots would make it to the magazine.”

“I met him,” Atsumu says, and Sakusa blinks. “Just hours before I met you. He saw me on the street when I was advertising that day and used his incubus powers on me before his boyfriend told him to knock it off.” Sakusa’s eyebrows raise in interest.

“Iwaizumi is his manager as well. I don’t think they publicly announced their relationship, but it was clear to me Oikawa was spoken for.”

“Does incubus attraction work the same way on supernatural folk?” Sakusa shakes his head no.

“We’re a little more immune to it. It doesn’t ‘hit’ us as fast, so to speak.”

Atsumu shrugs and gives a playful grin. “He was dead set on havin’ his way with me. I shoulda’ slept with him, had I known he was famous and all that. Maybe it would’ve given me fame, and I could pay off student loans.” He expects a deadpan response, but something flickers in Sakusa’s eyes then, for a fraction of a second, before he looks down at Atsumu’s textbooks.

“I’m glad we found each other, then,” Sakusa says, light. “What are you studying in university?”

“Magical law. Lookin’ to become a magical lawyer,” Atsumu replies, and the surprise in Sakusa’s expression is expected.

Atsumu shrugs. “I know I’m just human, but the university just started offerin’ the program. Switched my major recently ‘cause havin’ magical friends in a society where we’re still gettin’ used to living together means they’re still treated weird.” He flips through a few pages absentmindedly to search for the one he needs for his assignment.

He taps his pen against his nose. “There’s still a lot of stuff to be figured out for us to coexist. I wanna be on the forefront of that change.”

Sakusa scoffs, more at himself than at Atsumu, because he’s a photographer versus Atsumu’s legislative goals. “I’m sure you will. That’s pretty cool, too.” His gaze is warm, and Atsumu has to look away to ignore his ears going red.

Just as Atsumu had said, they’re both quite busy – they hang out like that, at either Sakusa’s apartment or Atsumu’s, studying, working. Osamu and Sakusa bond over odd spice combinations and picking on Atsumu.

“Thought you said you had to finish editing those photographs for the deadline tomorrow, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu says, grabbing at Sakusa’s shoulders to see what he and Osamu are doing at the kitchen counter.

Sakusa leans into his touch, prompting Atsumu to wind his hands around Sakusa’s waist and tuck his chin on his shoulder. “I also came here to give Osamu a part of my sourdough starter.”

“Sourdough starters don’t exactly _smell_ like this,” Osamu says, fascinated. “What flour do you use? How long do you let it ferment?”

“I get my flour from the kappa family that owns the convenience store near my place,” Sakusa says. “I think they mill their own stuff. Old recipe.”

“How old is this starter, anyway?” Sakusa looks over at Atsumu and brings a finger up to his lips. “Wow, okay, I’m just gonna say it’s been _ages_ , then. ‘Samu, this starter is older than we are,” Atsumu declares.

“It makes good bread,” Sakusa says. “Not that you would know what good bread is, you ate cereal off the floor yesterday.”

“I spilled some! It was granola and there’s the five second rule!”

“I don’t think that counts when you used your mouth to vacuum the granola into it.”

Despite the worrying alliance Sakusa and Osamu have made against Atsumu, he’s – happy, come to think of it. Mind numbingly busy, but achingly, disgustingly happy, especially when Atsumu realizes Sakusa is the doting type.

A month passes before he realizes this, but if he looks back all the signs are there. Bouquets from Kenma sent to the blood delivery office; purple lilacs for first emotions of love, pink tulips for happiness, white roses trimmed with baby’s breath for devotion and everlasting love. He drops them off with the excuse that the dreary office needs to be brightened up, but Bokuto and Kuroo are there with a Google list of flower language to give both Sakusa and Atsumu shit for it.

When Atsumu crashes Sakusa’s apartment after a long delivery shift or after his night classes (Sakusa’s orders of bagged blood are always last on Atsumu’s list to deliver), he’s there with a change of clothes, a spare toothbrush, and that godforsaken sourdough loaf the next morning for breakfast (which _is_ good, but don’t tell Sakusa that). There are various other baked goods and ingredients in the fridge for Atsumu, especially when Sakusa technically doesn’t need to eat human food at all. Sakusa even makes dinner for the both of them after they’re done with work one late night – Korean blood sausage from pig’s blood delivered by Atsumu, served with spicy stir-fried rice cakes, so the both of them can eat together.

It’s considerate and sweet in a way Atsumu never expected from Sakusa, the solemn, scowling vampire he met on the sidewalk, who is still solemn and scowling at the desktop computer screen in the dark living room right now as he flicks through his latest shoot. Atsumu would feel bad, about not reciprocating, but Sakusa waves him off every time.

“It’s just nice to have you around,” he says, and he blushes because this is after the blood sausage dinner and he’s technically just fed. It makes Atsumu flush himself and wonder in Sakusa’s long immortal life (he still hasn’t asked how old he is) if anyone’s really stuck around.

“Fucking disgusting,” says Kuroo, in response to this after Atsumu’s done talking, weeks later from their last discussion about this. They’re packaging orders to go to the post office. “You guys are so domestic, not even Kenma and I are like that.”

“ _You’re_ definitely like that,” Atsumu says. “Kozume-kun, not so much.”

“You get a boyfriend that communicates often via flower! That’s not conventional at all!”

“I _do._ You and Bokuto have not stopped giving me shit for it.” Atsumu points at the small bouquet of lavender wrapped in wax paper and twine on the front desk, for devotion.

“Tsum-Tsum, can I take the lavender for Akaashi? He’s been meaning to get some from Kenma but keeps forgetting ‘cause he’s writing,” Bokuto says. Atsumu nods before taking one sprig out to keep and gives Bokuto the rest.

“Enough with domestic shit,” Kuroo says. “Gimme the juicy details, boy: vampire dick, yes slash no?”

Atsumu snorts. Mind numbingly busy, but achingly, disgustingly _horny_ is also on the list.

“We haven’t had the time.”

“Not even for a quickie?”

Atsumu shrugs. “Feels kinda weird to after he’s been all dotin’ and shit.”

“Bro, you showed up on his doorstep in a maid outfit to fuck, how are you embarrassed by this.”

“And he didn’t want to fuck immediately! We had a sitdown about courting first!”

“Oh my _god_.”

Atsumu smacks his hands over his face. “I know. Maybe I’ll just jump his bones the next time I see him.”

“The undetermined-age bones,” Bokuto says, and they burst out laughing. Atsumu thinks about the expression on Sakusa’s face when he mentioned jokingly whether he should’ve slept with Oikawa and starts to plan in his mind.

He wonders if along with doting, Sakusa is the jealous type, too.

* * *

The following week after Atsumu gets through a few exams in succession, he flops onto Sakusa’s couch.

“Omi-kun.” Sakusa turns to look at him from his desk. “This is your last fashion shoot before you get the weekend off, right?”

Sakusa nods. “It matches well with your exam schedule. What did you have in mind to do?”

“How’d ya know I wanted to do something?”

“You always want to do something, Atsumu,” Sakusa says, pursing his lips to suppress a smile.

Atsumu blows his bangs out of his face. “Well, ya got me there. I was thinkin’ – I haven’t had a drink in weeks, and I’ve never been to those underground clubs. The fancy supernatural ones. We’ve been working pretty hard, so I think we deserve a night off to have some fun.”

Sakusa hums. “I haven’t been to one in a while. Not really my favourite place to be.”

“And by in a while, d’you mean in decades?” Sakusa snorts, shaking his head.

“Like months, Atsumu. If you’ve forgotten, I’ve been pursuing a certain someone, with a blood delivery service.” Sakusa raises one eyebrow and Atsumu huffs, again undone by the weird blunt sweetness that is Sakusa’s trademark.

“Yeah, yeah. Just using me for the blood, aren’t ya? So what’d you think? Drinks on Saturday?”

“Sure,” Sakusa says. “If you want to go and see what it’s like, we’ll go. I’ll pick you up after your shift?”

Atsumu makes an excited affirmative noise. “Dress hot, Omi-Omi. Can’t be seen out in the streets lookin’ like a scrub.”

Sakusa glowers at him. “My closet is perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

Sakusa appears at the door of their office at the end of Atsumu’s shift at 11pm. He’s dressed in ripped black jeans, ankle boots, a tight black shirt, and a black leather jacket. The glasses match the gold metal details on the jacket, and he is without his cloth mask. The outfit is, without a doubt, very hot, agreed upon by Bokuto and Kuroo aggressively mock flirting with Sakusa whose expression gets more fed up as they go on. Atsumu takes one look at him and goes to the bathroom to change without a word.

He emerges in also all black, an army green bomber jacket over his black t-shirt and black jeans.

“Have fun!” Bokuto and Kuroo wave off their invitation, saying it’s movie night for them and Akaashi and Kenma. They take the train and get off not too many stops away, Atsumu following Sakusa through a myriad of dark alleyways before they end up in one final alley, facing a brick wall.

Sakusa crouches and a tabby cat emerges from behind the dumpster. He pulls a few bills from his wallet which are taken by the cat by the mouth.

“Yes, he’s with me,” Sakusa says, looking up at Atsumu. The cat meows and disappears. The glamour on the door drops, revealing a step and a metal door.

“What the fuck,” Atsumu says, and Sakusa chuckles and opens the door.

“After you,” Sakusa says, low, and keeps one hand to the small of Atsumu’s back once they get inside.

The club is hot and humid and Atsumu feels a sheen of moisture clinging to the back of his neck already. It’s decently crowded, the tables filled, people squished on the dance floor, squished together at the bar. The bass of the music thumps in his ribcage as Atsumu makes his way past the bar. He thinks he recognizes the demon bartenders currently performing tricks as classmates – Hanamaki and Matsukawa. They hold up peace signs when they see Atsumu and Sakusa.

“What can I get ya?” Hanamaki leans over the bar, pointed tail flicking and two small horns emerging from his fluffy strawberry blonde hair.

The heat of the club has Atsumu parched already. “Uh, tequila shots to start. Omi-kun?” Sakusa is at his shoulder.

“Just a bloody Mary. On my tab.” Atsumu laughs a little at the drink choice.

“Keeping to the vampire aesthetic?”

“I like tomato juice,” says Sakusa, which is honestly so _Sakusa_ to say so.

They take their drinks and head to a free table for two and settle in. Sakusa watches Atsumu knock back the tequila with salt and lime slices with interest, eyes hovering on the way Atsumu licks the salt from the back of his hand.

The liquor fizzes gently in his veins. He taps his feet underneath the table, and Sakusa chuckles while clearing his shot glasses.

“Go on and dance,” he says. He cuts quite the figure as he leans back in his chair. “Enjoy yourself. You know I don’t want to be touched by any of them, I’ll hold our table here for whenever you want to carry more drinks back. Get what you want.”

Honestly, he’s just too good. It’s unfair.

Atsumu drinks this frustration – and his sexual frustration – down, ordering quick shots to get himself buzzed and warm. He winds his way onto the dance floor, nodding to the beat. He makes his way through several different partners; he winds himself around a witch, rolls his shoulders and hips alongside a succubus, sways with a human woman, and bares his neck to a vampire grinding along behind him.

It’s fun, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not what he’s here for.

The shift of the crowd moves him so that he’s facing Sakusa at the other end of the room. The vampire he’s dancing with pants against his ear but keeps his fangs unexposed for civility.

Atsumu’s eyes are half lidded and he sees Sakusa crystal clear, dark eyes fixed on him, glittering in the club dance lights and focused on the swivel of his hips. Sakusa lowers the glass from his mouth after he takes a sip to reveal his extended fangs, tips red from the drink.

Perfect.

Atsumu grins, sly and knowing, and turns away to say no to the vampire asking him to come home with him and finds someone else to dance with.

He knows he’s playing with fire, but he’s drunk, and although that doesn’t excuse his attempts to get Sakusa’s attention on him it does explain them. If he wanted to get railed by the man of his affections, Atsumu figures, he probably should’ve just asked. Maybe he should have just shown up at Sakusa’s door to pounce on him.

He’s never been the best at just asking for what he wants. But this – this game, knowing that they’re both playing – this is fun, too.

Through the next partners he dances with, Atsumu glances back over and finds that Sakusa is chatting to a variety of people as well. Every time he looks back it’s someone new; a petite faerie, a werewolf, then some humans. They laugh and lean in when Sakusa smirks over the drinks that they bring him, like an offering, and toy with the zipper on his coat sleeve.

Atsumu feels jealousy flare in his chest. He drops his hands from his dance partner to start making his way over to where Sakusa is and wants to laugh at himself because of _course_ he would be the one to feel this way, that the plan would backfire. Sakusa is only ever polite to the people that come for his attention. It could be classified as cold, even. He speaks to them lightly, never touches them back, inclines his head when they take their leave after he presumably says he’s not interested.

It makes Atsumu think of how shy he looked when they’d first met and how he wanted to _court_ Atsumu, all the flowers, the bread, the cooking. That sweetness pointed at someone else has Atsumu practically marching his way back to Sakusa because he’s here to take his man _home,_ thank you very much. He doesn’t want Sakusa to be polite to him when Atsumu comes for his attention. He wants Sakusa to want him, just as much.

Sakusa reads the expression on Atsumu’s face and he moves to meet Atsumu halfway.

“Home?” Sakusa says, but the question is cut off when Atsumu reels him in by the jacket to kiss him, licking along his fangs before meeting tongue with tongue. Sakusa breaks off the kiss gently with a low laugh, fingers tracing Atsumu’s jawline, fond.

“Right th’ fuck now,” Atsumu agrees, and they make their way out.

The train ride home is easily the most frustrating one he’s taken with Sakusa yet. They’re standing up against the side doors, Atsumu not bothering to even sit down. Sakusa keeps him from swaying too much by holding him by the waist and makes his head spin anyway with the way he noses at Atsumu’s neck.

His breath catches in his throat when Sakusa pulls him into his apartment and crowds him against the door.

“Got what you wanted, did you?” Sakusa asks, as Atsumu peels the jacket off his shoulders to smooth his hands over his chest.

“Not quite,” Atsumu replies, hands dropping to Sakusa’s crotch. He strokes against the tight jeans until Sakusa’s fully hard, grinding against the thigh that Sakusa has pushed in between his while they toe their shoes off. His brow furrows – Sakusa needs blood, did he bite someone? He doesn’t think he’s fed recently; he hasn’t delivered blood to Sakusa since a week ago.

“Someone brought me a drink with pig’s blood in it,” Sakusa says to his unvoiced question. “It tasted pretty gross with the alcohol.”

Atsumu snorts. “Lucky me. Means we can get to it faster.” Sakusa tips his chin up with one strong hand and Atsumu’s fingers slip from their pant buttons.

“Not yet,” Sakusa breathes, and Atsumu whines against his hold. “You were toying with me tonight, Atsumu.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Sakusa shakes his head. “I know you wanted to get a rise out of me.” Atsumu wiggles his eyebrows and palms his crotch again, and Sakusa laughs.

“That too. Why didn’t you just ask? That you wanted this?”

“I didn’t want to get in the way of you properly courtin’ me,” Atsumu says. “You were so – so fuckin’ _sweet_ , with the flowers and everythin’. Y’know how hard it is to say, ‘let’s fuck’ to a man making sourdough pretzels for you?”

“So you _do_ like the sourdough,” Sakusa says, and Atsumu swats at him through a laugh as well.

“I know I said I was too busy, and we were both _actually_ busy, but I still – I still _wanted_ ,” Atsumu says, unable to phrase it exactly. The alcohol and how much he wants Sakusa slurs his tongue.

Sakusa nods. “Tell me, next time. Instead of dancing with who knows how many people. I almost thought that vampire would bite you.”

“Jealous, Omi-kun?”

Sakusa leans in, noses brushing. “Yes. I was. And you did it on purpose.”

“How will I make it up to you?” Atsumu breathes shakily against his mouth, tasting liquor.

Sakusa regards him, eyes narrowed and looking down upon Atsumu from the tip of his nose. He pushes off the door and gently pushes Atsumu towards the couch.

“Box underneath there. Get lube and condoms and come to the table.” Atsumu does so, and turns around to Sakusa in his tight shirt, belt unbuckled, standing at the edge of the kitchen table. He leans against it to pull his cock out and obscenely licks his hand to stroke it twice, eyes heavy on Atsumu as he makes his way back. Atsumu feels his mouth go dry.

Sakusa takes the packets and tosses them onto the table and pulls Atsumu in for a bruising kiss. Atsumu feels consumed in all the ways – through the kiss, by his desire.

“Just for the record,” Atsumu pants between them, “We’re done with courtin’. _I’m_ done with courtin’. I wanna be yours.”

“You _are_ mine,” Sakusa growls, and honest to god tears Atsumu’s shirt off. What the fuck, vampire strength. It’s too late to care; he’ll just steal one of Sakusa’s.

“I am. And you’re mine, too.” Atsumu reaches out to brush his fingertips against Sakusa’s throat, suddenly gentle. It flickers in Sakusa’s eyes, too, before Sakusa pushes his pants and underwear down and then applies pressure on his shoulders to make him kneel.

“Make it up to me,” Sakusa says, and Atsumu does.

He licks his lips to moisten them before moving one hand around the base of Sakusa’s cock and taking as much as he can into his mouth. He sucks and twists in a slow rhythm, willing his throat to relax to Sakusa can press against the back of Atsumu’s throat with ease. He hears Sakusa panting, little muffled noises that go straight to his groin. He drops his hand and pulls off.

“Fuck me,” Atsumu says, and opens his mouth while looking up at Sakusa. His eyelids flutter when Sakusa gently cups his head with both hands and slides slowly into his mouth, brushing against the back of his throat.

Atsumu moans around his length, signaling that he can handle more, groaning when Sakusa pulls back and starts to pick up a rhythm.

The sound of it is hot, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. He can feel his own cock leaking from the taste of Sakusa in his mouth and he opens his eyes to look up at him. He’s a sight to behold; flushed cheeks, eyes bright, chest and abs heaving with his breathing as he watches Atsumu hollow his cheeks around his cock.

Sakusa pulls out fully and Atsumu pants, swallowing thickly. Sakusa pulls him up by the arms to kiss him and then turns them around, so Atsumu is facing the table and is being pushed down to bend over.

He hears the lube and condom packet open, and then condom covered fingers at his entrance. He pushes back on them and Sakusa huffs a laugh at his impatience.

Sakusa spreads him open fast enough and rough enough that Atsumu’s whimpering against the wood of the table, toes curling against the floor. He fucks himself back onto Sakusa’s fingers and his noises grow louder when fingertips brush against his prostate.

“Hurry up, Omi-kun, please, need you,” he breathes, and feels a kiss pressed to the back of his neck before fingers are replaced with the head of Sakusa’s cock, stretching him, stinging only slightly.

Sakusa spreads one hand against Atsumu’s shoulderblade to keep him pressed against the table.

“Okay?” Sakusa says. Atsumu nods. The hand drops to his hips to mirror the other one, and Atsumu whines when Sakusa pushes in slow and draws back even slower. He pauses, and Atsumu stops breathing.

The first jerk of Sakusa’s hips, sheathing him in all the way, has Atsumu keening and his nails scrabbling for purchase at the table edges. Sakusa fucks him with full, even strokes, and with every punishing thrust Atsumu’s legs shake. Sakusa fists his flushed, dripping cock with one hand and pumps at a rhythm to match the roll of his hips.

Atsumu’s drooling against the tabletop, unable to make any noises now with how good it is. He climbs to orgasm and forces his voice to work.

“Gonna come, Omi-kun, can I come, please, please –“

“Come, Atsumu,” Sakusa says, and Atsumu lets his vision go white.

He comes down from the high to Sakusa exhaling shakily at the back of his neck, also coming down from his orgasm. They pull apart slowly and Atsumu massages at one calf that’s starting to cramp.

Sakusa cleans the both of them up, gentle and sweet, and it cracks open Atsumu’s heart fully.

“Someday, we gotta use the bed instead of the kitchen table,” he says, and the laugh that Sakusa gives him when he tugs Atsumu down the hallway to his room is everything Atsumu didn’t know he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> my draft title was vampire AU pt 2: electric boogaloo. it's 2:13am and i need to sleep, but i just really needed to get this out of my one brain cell!
> 
> thank you for reading!


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